


That I May Not Cause Pain

by MusicalLuna



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Conversations, Crying, Daddy Issues, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepper feels a spike of real, visceral fear when something glittering slips from Tony's eyelashes, leaving a shining line down his cheek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That I May Not Cause Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the wake of Iron Man 2.

There's a room in Stark Mansion the size of a small ballroom with glossy wooden floors so dark they're almost black and the only thing in the room is a beautiful eighty-year-old rosewood grand piano. It looks like a swirling ruby against the dark green walls and the slick, pitch hue of the floor.

This is where Pepper finds Tony, sitting sideways straddling the bench at the piano, a crystal decanter half-full of golden liquid behind him. The crystal stopper is several feet away on the floor, gleaming like a diamond in the moonlight coming through the windows. She steps into the room cautiously, for once uncertain.

Tony is prone to fits of melancholy, but they usually drive him to spend more time in his lab, feverishly working until he's exhausted himself past the point of emotion. She's never heard of him coming to the rooms in the mansion that bear the touches of his father and mother and it's strange to see him in a void of technology. She's used to seeing him surrounded by modern trappings and he looks wildly out of place in his well-worn jeans and his favorite thread-bare AC/DC tee.

"Tony?" she says softly.

He doesn't start, just stills somehow even though he's hardly moving as it is, his eyes sliding over to her. They're clear, but glossy; Pepper's not sure what to make of that. "Oh," he says, and his voice is hollow. "Hey, Pep." He drags his mouth into what is probably supposed to be a smile; the result is a miserable failure and it makes Pepper's stomach turn.

"Tony," she says carefully, "what am I looking at right now?"

His eyebrows go up, but he's staring at the bench between his knees, picking at the grain in the slick wood with his fingernail. "Oh, you know," he says and his shoulders twitch in a shrug. "Guy with a boatload of daddy issues asking pointless questions of the universe, trying to drink himself into oblivion—guess it's not exactly my usual vibe, is it? Aside from the drinking myself into oblivion part, I mean."

"Tony, you're scaring me a little," she tells him and steps forward a few more paces, watching him warily.

He laughs and the sound is wet. Pepper feels a spike of real, visceral fear when something glittering slips from his eyelashes, leaving a shining line down his cheek. "All the shit you've put up with and this is what scares you? Crying? People cry all the time."

She swallows. "People, certainly. But you? I was half convinced you'd removed the ducts. Tony, what's going on? What's wrong?" she asks, a little desperately. “Did something happen?”

He sniffs, swipes the side of his hand over his cheek and his mouth quirks in that abomination of a smile again.

"Please, don't," she says softly. "Don't pretend like you're okay. You don't have to be okay, Tony."

He actually looks at her then, his eyes wide and liquid, brimming. "Don't I?"

"No," she says. "No, you don't." And very gingerly, she picks up the decanter and sets it on the floor beside the piano, easing down onto the bench. "Tell me what's going on," she murmurs.

He takes a shuddering breath and after a couple of mis-starts, manages to croak, "My dad—" Then his breathing hitches sharply, making a huffing sound and he bows forward, choking, "I just—fuck, Pep—" And then it's like he can't hold it in anymore, a desolate sound tearing free. Tony clamps one hand down over his mouth, trying desperately to stop the noise, but it's useless—it's been bottled up too long—and Pepper turns and wraps her arms around him, pressing up against his back as heaves in her arms. He pulls in each breath like he's drowning. "I—I _hated_ him. H-h-he didn't give a _fuck_ about m-me, but th-th-then this _bullshit_ v-video a-an-an' I just—why c-couldn't h-he—"

"Oh, Tony," she whispers.

He stops trying to talk after that and Pepper hangs on because it feels like if she lets him go, he'll break apart and there will be no putting him back together.

It seems like hours before the shuddering subsides and he stops gasping and she feels his hand around her arm, holding on tight. He's quiet and she knows after that outpouring he must be exhausted, but she can feel the embarrassment starting to roll off of him, his back growing stiff between her arms. She just leans into him further and kisses the nape of his neck, draws one hand back to press her hand to the curve of his jaw. "You're okay," she murmurs. "I'm here."

"I don't—" He swallows convulsively and she presses her lips to his neck again, leans her forehead into the juncture of his shoulder. "It doesn't change the fact that he was a shitty father," he manages. "I would have given _anything—_ " He takes a quavering breath and curls his hand over hers. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Pepper lays her head on his shoulder and strokes the hair at the nape of his neck with her thumb, manages a smile. "I've seen worse."

Tony snorts, his hand tightening convulsively around hers. "Pepper—"

"I know, Tony," she whispers. "It's okay."

He relaxes at last.

**Author's Note:**

> My friend gave me the prompt 'rosewood' and I wanted to try and write Tony crying, in character because I have a lot of Tony feels. This was what I came up with. The title is a song by the band Kiros.


End file.
